


Catch of the Day

by Lopithecus



Series: SuperBat Prompts [29]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Merpeople, Secret Santa, SuperBat Secret Santa, Superbat Secret Santa 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 08:26:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13142805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lopithecus/pseuds/Lopithecus
Summary: Clark, while out fishing, finds an unusual man.





	Catch of the Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second story for the [SuperBat Secret Santa](http://superbatsecretsanta.tumblr.com/) run on Tumblr and is, again, for [boxymilk](http://boxymilk.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr with a prompt of "Mermaid AU."
> 
> Boxymilk, I hope you enjoy this story as well! I had so much fun writing it!! XD
> 
> Enjoy and happy holidays!!

Clark sighs as he motors his fishing boat out into the water. Today, the ocean is calm enough that he won’t have to worry about the boat not holding up to it. He really needs to invest in a new one but they are so expensive that he just can’t afford to. It doesn’t stop him from wistfully looking in the boat catalogues that he picks up from the local veggie market. If only the demand for fish would rise and then he could grow his business. Maybe even move somewhere bigger than the small, rundown town he lives in now.

When he’s far enough out into the ocean, he prepares all his materials, throwing the net out into the water. Then it’s just the waiting game, the part of the journey he enjoys the most. Clark likes the quietness that being out in the middle of the sea brings with it. The sound of the waves is soothing, the slosh slosh of it enough to put him asleep on more than one occasion. It’s also away from any civilization. Back on the land, he isn’t exactly the most outgoing of persons and it can get extremely lonely sometimes. But being out here, Clark can forget about all that and just relax while he recharges from the sun.

Looking around the wide expanse of water, Clark is about to settle in for a long wait when something catches his eyes. There’s a figure a few yards away, floating in the water. Using his powers, Clark looks closer and is alarmed to see that it is a human body, face down and bloody. Quickly, Clark floats into the sky and flies over to the prone figure, looking it over.

The water around the body is red and using his super hearing, Clark can hear the person still has a heartbeat. Hastily, Clark bends to pick up the person but then stops short when he sees where some of the bottom half of the body is sticking out of the water. Carefully reaching down, Clark flips the person over and gasps.

This person isn’t a human at all. They’re a mermaid or better yet, a _merman_. The man has a pale, human torso with arms, hands, and a head. Black hair is floating around that head in wistful motions. Below the torso, is a black tail that is mostly submerged in the water. Blood and dirt covers the merman’s body.

Promptly, Clark picks up the merman, cradling the body close to his chest. He flies back to the boat as fast as he dares with such a delicate thing in his arms. Clark’s mind is whirling, not only with the fact that mermaids are real but that he has now got to save one from bleeding to death. He sets the body down onto the deck of the boat and starts to clean it up, putting pressure on some of the more serious wounds.

“Don’t worry,” Clark mumbles as he works. “I’m going to help you.” The merman doesn’t wake to Clark’s words and Clark thins his lips in worry.

Nodding to himself, he stands and quickly pulls the net up. It’s empty but that doesn’t matter right now. Instead, Clark goes to the bridge and starts the engine, heading home at top speed. Looking back at the merman, he sees that the man is still lying there unconscious. Clark is relieved to see that the blood isn’t soaking through the makeshift bandages he applied before they got underway, but is still concerned about how much blood the merman lost.

He makes it back to shore in record time and picks up the merman once more. He decides to fly home, hoping that it will be quicker and conceal the creature in his arms. The last thing he needs is a whole debacle of towns people coming to see the mysterious mermaid. Then the next thing Clark knows, the FBI will be knocking at his door, asking to confiscate the ocean dweller. Clark shivers, remembering his fears of being discovered for his own alien abilities.

Luckily, with it being so early in the morning, not a lot of people are out. There are mostly the shop owners opening up for the day, either inside a building or under the cover of a market stand. It makes it easier for Clark to fly overhead and not be seen. Eventually he lands behind his house and enters through the backdoor.

Clark heads upstairs and is about to set the merman onto his bed but then thinks better of it. Turning in the opposite direction of this bedroom, he enters the bathroom. His house isn’t big by any means; one bedroom and one bath. The kitchen is small and the living room even smaller. He doesn’t even have a dining room or a table to eat at. Instead he has to eat at his couch, watching the news on his cheap tv that is on its last legs.

Clark carefully sets the merman down into the bathtub and frowns at how the creatures tail scrunches. The tub is nowhere near big enough for such a long man but it will have to do. Kneeling, Clark begins inspecting the wounds closer, peeling off some of his homemade bandages. The man is going to need to be cleaned to get all the blood and dirt off. Clark also doesn’t want to keep him out of the water for too long. He’s not sure what will happen if too much time is spent in the open air for a mermaid and Clark has a feeling it’s not what happens in the fairy tales. Still, he needs to treat the wounds before filling the tub.

Clark stands once more and grabs for a clean washcloth and the first aid kit. He doesn’t know the first thing of taking care of a mermaid. Just half an hour ago, he didn’t even know they existed. But he has to focus right now and hope that he is doing the right thing for the man. Clark kneels back down and gets to work, using the washcloth to wash some of the blood and dirt away and the first aid kit to sterilize the wounds.

The more Clark reveals of the man, the more he realizes that the dirt isn’t actually dirt and instead tattoos. Slowly, Clark runs the washcloth over the man’s chest, exposing a wide expanse of abstract art of swirls and patterns. It travels over merman’s left pectoral and onto his left arm, down until it reaches his elbow. On the left shoulder, among the swirls, there is a picture of a turtle, the surrounding background filled in with black in order to make the animal stand out more. On the merman’s right forearm, there is a tattoo of the bottom half of a fish tail, though Clark assumes it could also be a mermaid’s tail. The other half disappears into a curving line that travels to the man’s wrist where a clam shell tattoo rests. When Clark gently leans the merman forward to clean the man’s back, between the shoulder blades is a picture of an octopus, wrapped around a coral reef. Then, on the lower back, just before it turns to tail, is a tattoo of a jellyfish swimming horizontally. Clark stares at them in awe, wondering how the man had gotten them and what the meaning of them are.

The merman groans and Clark carefully sits the man back, waiting for awareness. It doesn’t take long as the merman blinks open eyes and Clark is struck by how blue they are. They’re the color of the sky and absolutely beautiful. The man regains consciousness and looks around the room, eyes finally settling on Clark.

The merman clears his throat. “Where am I?”

“Oh!” Clark exclaims, feeling a flush of heat make its way onto his cheeks. “You’re in my house.” Those icy eyes narrow. “I found you in the ocean, hurt, and I brought you back here to heal you.”

The merman looks down at his own body. “Well, I’m not going to heal if I’m not in water.” Narrowed eyes turn to Clark once more. “Instead you’re killing me.”

“Oh!” Clark exclaims again and immediately turns on the water, plugging the bathtub. He sticks his hand under the spout to check the temperature. “Is it too cold?” The merman only crosses muscled arms over a strong looking chest. “Um… too warm?” Still no answer. “Not salty enough?” The merman looks like he wants to throw something at Clark’s head. “Okay… um… how about this? What’s your name? I’m Clark.” Clark sticks a hand out to be shaken.

The merman ignores it, reaching over and adjusting the temperature on the faucet to fully cold. “Bruce.”

“Okay, Bruce.” Clark eyes the temperature and forces a chuckle. “I guess I should have expected you would want it to be cold considering the ocean is thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit.” If there were crickets around, now would have been the perfect time for them to play their tune. “Okay… what about salt? The ocean is salty.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Bruce turns judging eyes onto Clark.

Clark swallows awkwardly. “I’ll go see how much salt I have.” He stands and leaves the bathroom, heading downstairs and into his kitchen. Opening up the cupboard shows that he only has a small container of table salt. Shrugging, Clark figures any salt would be better than no salt. Grabbing it, he heads back upstairs. Once in the bathroom, Clark opens the container and dumps the salt into the water, Bruce’s curious, calculating eyes trained on him. When all the salt is in the tub, Clark smiles down at the merman.

Bruce glares. “You really think that’s enough?”

“It’s all I have,” Clark explains and Bruce uses his tail to splash Clark with water angrily. Clark stands. “Hey, watch it! I don’t need water all over my bathroom.” Bruce huffs and turns away petulantly. “You know, you would think you would be more grateful considering I saved you.”

“I didn’t need saving,” Bruce grumbles, still facing the wall.

Clark huffs and mumbles under his breath, “Yeah, right.”

Hearing Clark’s breath of air, Bruce peeks over at him. “I guess I should expect a prude like you to be bothered by a little water.”

“What?” Clark asks, confused. “What do you mean I’m a prude?”

Bruce’s eyes travel up and down his body. “You land dwellers and your penchant for covering yourselves.”

Clark gapes. “Wearing… clothes makes me a prude?”

One of Bruce’s eyebrows rises. “Even the mermaids pretty much bear it all.”

“You mean the female ones?” Clark asks.

Clark watches as Bruce takes an angry breath in and Clark has to stop himself from laughing. “I am _not_ a mermaid, whatever your name is. I am a mer _man_. When I said mermaids, I mean they still cover up their bosoms.”

Clark snorts. “Bosoms? You can just call them breasts, you know.”

Bruce’s eyes narrow even more. “Don’t be crude.” Clark refrains from asking which he is, a prude or crude.

Clark sighs. “Well, you just got me wet so I’m going to take my shirt off anyway.” Clark reaches down and starts unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it off where it sticks to his skin. “And the name’s Clark.” Bruce is eyeing him intently and when Clark has the shirt completely removed, Clark turns to the merman. “What?”

Bruce gestures for Clark to spin and so Clark does. When he is facing the man again, Clark raises an eyebrow. “Where are your markings?”

Clark’s eyebrows furrow. “Excuse me?”

Bruce huffs, as if the merman isn’t surprised by this revelation. “You don't have any? What are you? A barbarian?”

Clark stares at the merman, confusion and shock running through his head. “Uh… not all humans have, um, tattoos.”

Bruce huffs again, crossing arms once more. “Barbarian it is. Getting markings signify maturity. Obviously, humans without them aren’t mature.” Bruce gives Clark a pointed look.

“No, we-” Clark starts but cuts himself off, giving up. “Look, I need to treat your wounds.”

“There’s no need for that. They are healing just fine on their own,” Bruce states. The merman is flapping his black tail impatiently when suddenly it bumps a bath bomb that had been placed on the side of the tub, into the water. Bruce watches it as the thing sinks to the bottom of the water and starts dispersing into a pink mess. The man sniffs the air. “What is that?” Bruce sniffs again. “Why does it smell so… _strange_.”

“It’s a,” Clark goes to reach into the water to take the bath bomb out before the whole thing disintegrates, “bath bomb. It’s used to add some flare into the water.”

Bruce slaps Clark’s hand away. “Don’t you dare reach into the water near my tail.” Clark baulks. “You land dwellers are strange beings. Why do you want to change your water? Do you know-” Bruce cuts off. “My tail feels weird.” The merman reaches down and starts to scratch at the black scales. “What the hell is in that thing?” Bruce demands.

“I…” Clark flounders, not knowing what to do. “You must be allergic to it.” When Bruce growls at him and gives Clark a death glare, he quickly reaches over and starts draining the tub.

Bruce watches the water go down, eyeing the drain with suspicion. “You know this dumps into my home, right?” Clark clears his throat, turning on the faucet to cold in order to start washing the bath bomb off Bruce’s tail. “No comment?”

“I’m not the one who does the plumbing,” Clark explains. Bruce’s tail slaps Clark in the face and Clark rolls with it. “Was that really necessary!”

Bruce’s eyes narrow on him. “You’re not hurt.”

“I have tough skin,” Clark retorts, feeling annoyed.

“Merpeople have tough skin. Humans don’t,” Bruce grumbles.

With a tired sigh, Clark grabs a sponge to work over Bruce’s tail, not bothering to elaborate. Bruce looks at it. “Touch my tail and you’ll get more than just a slap in the face.”

Clark stares at him. “You’re mean.”

Bruce yanks the sponge out of Clark’s hand and inspects it. “What the hell is this?”

“Uh…”

Bruce’s eyes narrow. “Why does this thing look like the sponges in the ocean?” The merman’s eyes then widen, looking up at Clark gapingly. “You murderer!”

Clark takes the sponge back. “What! It’s not-” Clark pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s not a real sponge. It’s made from plastic.”

“Plastic?” Clark can hear the judgement in Bruce’s voice. The merman huffs. “I don’t want that abhorrent thing on my scales. Do you have a pumice stone?”

Clark blinks at the man. “Um… no?”

Bruce huffs again and then mumbles under his breath, “Definitely barbarians.”

“Well then, I’ll just… get cleaning,” Clark says, reaching down and starting to wipe the sponge over Bruce’s black scales.

He’s slapped in the face again for his efforts, this time with a fist. “I told you not to touch my tail.” Bruce takes the sponge back roughly and starts scrubbing not so gently over the scales.

Clark rubs at his cheek. “Sorry.” Clark kneels there watching as Bruce rubs. At one particular spot, however, Bruce flinches back and then red trickles down Bruce’s tail. “You opened one of your wounds back up again. Let me see.”

“That’s because there’s not enough salt in this Rumjir-forsaken water,” Bruce grumbles, handing the sponge back.

“Well, I am _so_ sorry that I don’t have salt water on hand.” Clark reaches down and starts cleansing the scales gently. “My bad. Next time, I’ll make sure to carry some buckets back with me too.” This earns Clark Bruce rolling those sky-blue eyes. They do this in silence for a few seconds before Clark asks, “Rumjir?”

“He’s our god, the god of the ocean,” Bruce informs.

Clark nods absently, focusing on cleaning Bruce’s tail. It’s swelling a little from the reaction to the bath bomb and Clark worries. “I thought Poseidon was the god of the ocean?”

Bruce shakes his head. “I’ve never heard of this Poseidon. Don’t equate human things to merpeople things.” Bruce then glances around the room, not giving Clark a chance to respond. “What is up with this room?”

Clark looks over at the merman. “Excuse me?”

“Your wall has pictures of anchors and life preservers on it. There’s even boats in places.” Clark glances around his bathroom, eyeing the wallpaper. Bruce is glaring again. "Those anchors destroy the coral reefs."

“I… don’t use anchors.” Bruce huffs at Clark’s statement. “It’s just wallpaper anyway. It’s not hurting anyone.”

“It’s hurting the ocean,” Bruce states. Then those blue eyes are glaring at him suspiciously instead of the wall. “I hope you recycle.”

“Of course, I do!” Clark crosses his arms, sponge dripping onto the already wet floor.

“Well at least there’s one thing you haven’t screwed up,” Bruce grumbles and Clark takes a calming breath, feeling his annoyance start boiling again. “But then there’s the trash issue,” Bruce continues, grumbling next, “Got my tail stuck in a diaper once.”

“I’m… sorry?” Clark says because he’s not really sure what he is _supposed_ to say.

Bruce’s eyes snap to him. “You should be sorry. You’re ruining the ocean.”

Clark uncurls his arms from his chest, placing his balled-up hands on his hips. “I’m not ruining the ocean, but humanity is.”

“And don’t even get me started on the dwindling fish population,” Bruce mumbles, as if not hearing Clark at all.

“Fish population?” Clark comments, mostly to himself. He thinks back to his profession as a fisher and huffs, his annoyance rising with the man he is trying to mend. Reaching over to the cabinet under his sink, he opens the door and pulls out a rubber ducky. It was gag gift to him from the Daily Pescetarian’s owner, Perry White.  He tries to hand it over to Bruce, knowing that it will most likely irritate the merman. “Here.”

Bruce takes it and investigates it, pressing it down and squeezing it. “More plastic?” Bruce chucks the duck at Clark’s face and the toy bounces off. “We get plenty of this material in the ocean. It kills everything!” Bruce’s eyes roam up and down Clark’s body. “You should write all the things I’m telling you down. I'm sure your human brain isn't big enough to remember how much you've screwed everything up.”

“Right,” Clark says sarcastically. “I’ll just go get my pad of paper and pen. Or would you rather me use a rock and chisel so not to pollute the ocean?”

Bruce waves a hand. “If you must, the rock and chisel will do.”

Clark growls and stands. “You’re vexing.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “And you’re living proof land dwellers can live without a brain, but sometimes we have to settle for what the tide brings.” Bruce’s tail flexes as Clark clenches his jaw in irritation. “For example, this contraption you’ve stuck me in is way too small, this room is also very tiny, you waste water that pollutes my home, and,” Bruce grabs the body wash, opening the cap to sniff it, “what the heck is this?” The merman holds it up for Clark to see. “You rub chemicals all over yourself? What kind of creatures are you?”

“Wait a minute,” Clark starts, kneeling again and turning on the tap in order to fill the tub once more. He won’t be able to add salt this time and hopes Bruce doesn’t notice. The merman probably will, however. “Just an hour ago, I didn’t even know merpeople existed. If you’re confused about humans, then I’m so much more confused about you.”

Bruce huffs and turns away from Clark, waiting for the tub to fill. At least the man’s tail is now looking better. “You land dwellers always believe you are superior to us ocean dwellers.”

Clark frowns, not really knowing how to respond to such a comment. It’s not true that Clark considers himself better than anyone, whether they live on land or in the ocean, but he isn’t sure how to get that across to the merman that is currently in his tub, glaring at the water. Instead he watches Bruce’s body and eyes at all the wounds. There are scars that he had missed seeing before when tending to the man. Now that he can sit back in leisure, he notices them prominently.

Sighing, Clark begins a new topic, hoping to quell the merman. “Can I ask you something?” Bruce says nothing, continuing to study the water with disgust. “Why were you hurt?” Still, Bruce says nothing. “You don’t want to tell me?” Clark pushes.

Bruce’s arms cross. “It’s none of your business,” the merman mumbles. Clark stays silent and Bruce eyes him curiously. Then those blue eyes roll in their sockets, Bruce relenting. “Bottom feeders.”

Clark raises an eyebrow, surprised. “Bottom feeders? As in criminals?” Bruce nods. “There are mermaid criminals?”

“Merpeople,” Bruce says pointedly. “Don’t be sexist.”

Clark blinks at him. “...Right.”

Bruce turns and makes eye contact with him, shrugging. “I’m normally pretty good at taking down the bottom feeder scum but this particular group had Atlanteans with them.”

“Atlanteans?” Clark asks. “As in from Atlantis?”

Bruce rolls his eyes once more. “Yes, of course. What else would I be talking about? Don’t be stupid. Keep up.”

“Right, my bad.” Clark clears his throat, trying to not let the insult get to him like last time. “So, why were you fighting criminals? Are you a merman cop or something?”

“Or something,” is Bruce’s answer and the merman doesn’t elaborate on what that means. Bruce’s eyes become downcast, studying the floor of the bathroom. “You _humans_ help the bottom feeders thrive by polluting our water. They prosper on anything on the ocean floor. So, anything bad for our home that goes down there, it has an impact, for better or for worse. The sea life that is responsible for keeping the ocean clean and healthy are overworked and can’t keep up. The land dwellers’ population continues to grow while ours continues to dwindle. Innocents die because of the plastic and waste of humans.”

Clark stares at Bruce in dismay. “I… didn’t know that.” He knew that humans were polluting the water and that it was killing the marine life. All he had to do was look at his average catch of the day and watch it lower and lower in count, to know the kind of impact polluting has. He just never realized there were actually living, sentient beings with their own population and villages that were being affected as well. “I’m sorry about what the humans are doing to your people.”

Bruce side eyes him when Clark mentions humans, not looking angry but instead hesitant and wary. “What did you mean earlier when you said that you have tough skin?”

Clark smiles at Bruce and looks at his watch. He stands. “I’m sorry, Bruce, but I have to get to work. I’m already late opening up.”

Bruce’s eyes narrow. “You sell fish?” Clark tilts his head in question. “That’s why you were out on the water, right?”

“If you’re going to lecture me about the fish population again, there’s no need.” Clark picks up his soiled shirt. “I already understand.” He reaches over and turns off the faucet. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

Bruce’s demeanor changes almost instantly to anger. “You’re going to just leave me here?”

Clark pretends to think about it, smiling smugly at the merman, and shrugs. “Bye.” He walks out of the room, ignoring Bruce yelling profanities at him.

Clark heads towards his bedroom in order to pick out a new shirt to wear. He’s not really sure what he is going to do at the shop today. He has no fish to sell except the few buckets he had frozen just in case he ran out of stock for today. After putting on a new shirt and with a heavy, tired sigh, Clark walks out back. He opens his freezer, taking out the buckets full of frozen fish. They will begin to thaw on his way to the fish stand, since it’s a good fifteen minute walk from his house, but luckily they won’t be completely melted so he’ll have time to add them to the coolers.

When he gets to the stand, Clark sees a familiar face and groans. “Kent!” Lois calls as he approaches.

Clark sets the buckets down with an exhale. He doesn’t really want to deal with Lois today. “Hey, Lois.” He begins adding the thawing fish to the coolers.

Lois eyes him. “You’re late opening today. You’re never late.”

“I got caught up with something.” Lois’ eyes narrow at him. “And no, I’m not going to talk about it,” he adds quickly. When he is done relocating all the fish, he turns over the closed sign to the side that says open. “Do you need another article for the Daily Pescetarian?”

Lois’ lips are pursed with suspicion. “No, I just came to see how you were doing. Why did you need your extra stock? The fish weren’t biting this morning?”

Clark sighs. “I didn’t have an opportunity to get out into the water.” One of Lois’ eyebrows rises. “Something came up.”

“And let me guess?” Lois says, leaning over the coolers to inspect the fish. “You’re not going to tell me what it was.”

Clark shakes his head. “It’s really nothing that important, Lois.”

“But something important enough to keep you from fishing and opening the market on time,” the woman points out. “Clark Kent, I never pegged you as someone who could end up being unreliable.”

“I’m not unreliable, I just-” he starts but Lois starts chuckling.

“I’m only teasing, Kent.” She gives him a warm smile. “I know people can always count on you.” Lois looks at her watch. “Shoot, I have to go. Perry is going to fire me if I’m late again.” She waves as she starts walking away. “Bye, Clark!”

Clark waves back at her, forcing a smile. “Bye.”

When Lois is out of sight, Clark takes a deep breath and falls back into his chair. That was close. He’s going to have to be careful or else Lois will start sniffing around where Clark doesn’t want her. The last thing he needs is for Lois to find out he’s hiding a merman in his bathroom and then write up an article in the Daily Pescetarian about mystical mermaids. That would make his and Bruce’s life unnecessarily complicated. It’s best to just keep the whole thing quiet.

The rest of the day runs smoothly until Clark finally runs out of fish, except for two he keeps, by mid-afternoon. He’s going to lose profits because of it, but he really doesn’t have a choice. Walking home as fast as he can without using his powers, he makes it back to his house in record time. Instead of heading to the bathroom, he heads to his kitchen and starts up the gas stove, putting a pan on top of it. Then, he begins to prepare the two fish he had saved.

Using his super hearing, Clark focuses on the bathroom as he cooks. He can hear Bruce’s even breaths, almost as if the merman is sleeping. Clark wonders how often the man is able to sleep without interruption. If Bruce is out fighting crime, does that mean he does it in whatever the equivalent to night time is down in the ocean? Clark doesn’t know but he suspects that either way, Bruce doesn’t get much sleep no matter what.

When the food is done cooking, Clark dishes it carefully onto two plates and then heads upstairs and to the bathroom. He enters with a wide smile, greeting the merman happily. “Hey!” Bruce startles awake, splashing more water onto the floor. “I brought some food.”

Bruce eyes the plate as Clark holds it out. “Is that… fish?”

“Yes.” Clark sets Bruce’s plate down on the edge of the tub and then sits down on the toilet. He grabs his fork and begins to eat.

Bruce is still eyeing the food. “Are you insane?”

Clark almost chokes, coughing to clear the food out of his throat. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bruce looks like he is going to throw up. “Merpeople don’t eat fish.” Clark’s eyes dart to the plate in front of Bruce. “We only eat plant life.”

“You’re a vegetarian?” Clark asks, astonished. He hadn’t been expecting that.

Bruce closes his eyes. “I’m sorry that your life had to come to a premature end. May Rumjir watch over you, little one.” Bruce opens his eyes and glares deadly at Clark. “How dare you take such an innocent life.”

“I…” Clark gapes, lost for words. He hangs his head. “I’m sorry.” Clark looks up and sees that Bruce’s eyebrows are furrowed. “I should have been more considerate of you and asked what you eat.”

Bruce is staring at him. Finally, the merman turns his head away. “Whatever.”

Clark is about to sigh in defeat, thinking he had ruined all his chances with the man, when he notices something peculiar. Bruce’s tail starts to shimmer yellow. “Your tail.”

Bruce’s eyes dart in the direction of his tail and when the merman sees what is happening, his cheeks alight in flames. Clark raises an eyebrow and Bruce’s blush travels down the merman’s torso as Bruce starts rubbing a hand down the scales, muttering, “Stupid tail.”

“Um, Bruce,” Clark starts, amusement building in his chest. “Why is your tail changing color?” It couldn’t mean what Clark thinks it means. After all, Clark knows a lot about fish but pretty much nothing about merpeople. Clark knows fish change color to attract a mate. Certainly, merpeople didn’t do the same thing. Did they?

Bruce scowls at Clark, splashing the water all over the place. “It’s no reason,” Bruce snaps in response.

The edges of Clark’s mouth pull upwards and he sits down on the tub. “You know, I’m very logical in fish and their behaviors.”

“Are you?” Bruce says. “I hadn’t noticed through all your stupidity.”

“I’m going to ignore that insult for now,” Clark states, smiling at the merman. “One thing I learned about fish through my studying for my job, is the fact that some fish change colors when they are trying to attract a mate.” Bruce’s face turns into a deeper red. Clark shrugs. “That wouldn’t happen to occur with merpeople as well, would it?”

Bruce throws the sponge at Clark’s face and Clark blinks as the water splashes all over his face and down his shirt. “Of course, not, idiot!” Bruce huffs, crossing arms again. “Don’t be so ridiculous. Obviously, this is a reaction to that water dissolving thing.”

“Bath bomb,” Clark says.

“Yeah, whatever.” Bruce waves it away, hand flopping back and forth in front of Clark’s face. Bruce huffs again. “As if I would be attracted to _you_ , a moronic land dweller.” Clark tries to hold back a smile. Bruce is looking very petulant right now. “Not in a million years.”

Clark chuckles and Bruce glares at him. Clark sits back against the wall, watching Bruce’s tail continue to turn an iridescent yellow as the merman continues to ignore it while the red of the blush Bruce is sporting travels down Bruce’s chest. He decides to change the subject for now, having mercy on the flustered man. “So, how long do you live for anyway?”

Bruce’s eyes travel to the side to peer at Clark. “Longer than a human.”

Clark nods. “So, do I.” One of Bruce’s eyebrows rises and Clark shrugs at seeing it. “You asked me why my skin is so tough. It’s because I’m not human.” Bruce’s eyes narrow, the man giving Clark full attention now. “I’m an alien and I have super powers.”

“Yeah, right,” Bruce says, sounding disbelieving. “And I’m friends with the Loch Ness Monster.”

Clark laughs slightly. “No, really I am. I can prove it too.” Clark crosses his legs and then begins to float. He looks over at Bruce to gauge the merman’s reaction but there is none. Only continued suspicion. With a silent sigh, Clark lands back down. “See?”

Bruce’s face softens a little. “An alien, huh?” Clark nods. “And you can fly-”

“Among other powers,” Clark inputs.

“Uh huh,” Bruce hums. “You have all these powers and you choose to be a fisherman in a,” Bruce’s eyes travel around the room, a look of disgust on the merman’s face, “dilapidated, ratty, run-down, unsightly house?”

“There’s no need to use four adjectives to insult my house, is there?” Clark mutters under his breath.

Bruce continues, not acknowledging Clark’s words. “You could do anything and you choose this?”

Clark shrugs. “What else am I supposed to do? I need a way to support myself.”

Bruce looks around the room again. “It doesn’t look like you’re supporting yourself.” The merman points at part of the wallpaper that is tearing off the wall. “Even the wallpaper doesn’t like itself.”

“You’re the one who doesn’t like it,” Clark mumbles and Bruce ignores him.

“You could use your powers to get somewhere in life, Clark.” Clark’s eyes snap up from looking at the floor to peer at Bruce. It’s the first time the merman has said Clark’s name. “What do you use your powers for?”

Clark shrugs again. “I don’t use them.” Bruce’s brows furrow. “I hide them mostly.” Now Bruce’s eyes are narrowed and Clark sighs. “Think of it this way. If humans found out that I was hiding out a merman in my bathtub, the government would be here within the hour to take you away and study you.” Bruce’s face slowly softens. “They would do the same to me. Humans don’t know we exist, Bruce, and I would like to keep it that way. For the safety of us both.”

Bruce’s lips thin and he studies Clark. Then, the man finally asks, “What other powers do you have?” Clark looks away from the merman as he begins to list them out. He tells Bruce all the ones he knows of and he can feel Bruce’s eyes boring into the side of his head in concentration. “I see,” Bruce says once Clark is finished. “So even though you could single handedly take out the government, you’re still afraid of them.”

“What if they find a way to capture me or kill me?” Clark asks, looking Bruce in the eyes.

“Aren’t you curious about where you came from?” Bruce asks.

“Well, yeah but-” Clark begins, getting cut off.

“Then you should find out,” Bruce states, running a hand down his tail that has started to shine more yellow. “I just think you can’t do that without revealing yourself.”

“Why not?” Clark inquires. “I’ve been sneaky so far.”

“No,” Bruce retorts. “You’ve been hiding. There’s a difference.” Bruce’s eyes squint at Clark, evaluating him. “So far, all you’ve been is a coward who is hiding behind an excuse. You could be doing so much good with your powers yet instead you choose to be selfish in your own unfounded fears.” Clark opens his mouth to respond but Bruce doesn’t let him, continuing on. “Finding out where you are from can help you learn to utilize your powers for the better and, in turn, use those powers to help people.” Bruce is looking at Clark with an enraged glare. “That’s what you should be doing. Not living in an eyesore, selling fish and barely making enough money to live off of.”

Clark frowns, not meeting Bruce’s eyes. “You want me to be some kind of superhero?”

“I want you to stop being a selfish coward!” Bruce yells and flinches at his own slip of self-restraint.

Clark’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. He looks up at the merman. “Why does it matter so much to you? You don’t seem too highly keen on humans.”

Bruce doesn’t answer right away, staring at Clark instead. Then, finally, “Because down in the ocean, it’s not just clear waters and coral reefs all day.” Bruce looks away. “There are bad people down there, Clark. Crime and wars, poverty and illness. I fight those, every night, just to try and make my people safe, to make them just _feel_ a little safer. I don’t have powers that could help me.” Bruce snaps his eyes back to Clark. “You do and you do nothing with them.”

“I…” Clark trails off, suddenly feeling guilty. Bruce is right, in a way. He has all these powers and instead of taking advantage of them to protect people and the world, he pretends to be a normal human being that can’t do a thing to help. Clark hangs his head. “I’m sorry.”

There’s silence that makes its way between the two for a long moment before Bruce begins speaking again. “It’s not too late to change it.”

Clark smiles a little, peering over at Bruce. “No, I guess it’s not.” Clark lifts his head, smile growing bigger. “Thank you, for showing me better.”

The blush is back on Bruce’s cheeks and the merman’s tail turns a bright iridescent yellow. Bruce turns away huffily. “Idiot,” the merman mumbles and Clark’s smile widens.

To save Bruce from any more embarrassment, Clark moves on. “Are the merpeople at war with the Atlanteans?”

Bruce sighs. “It’s a war that has been going on for years. It’s bloody and horrific.”

Clark swallows, not really wanting to know the answer to his next question. “Who is winning?”

Bruce’s face turns sullen. “Atlanteans.”

Clark’s shoulders slump even though he had been expecting that answer. “I’m sorry, Bruce.”

Bruce nods gloomily. “There’s nothing you can do, Clark. There’s no need for you to be sorry.”

“Maybe someday I will be able to do something,” Clark says.

Bruce huffs a small laugh. “Atlanteans hate land dwellers even more than merpeople. There will never be anything you could do.”

“Are…” Clark starts, pausing to take a deep breath. “Are you in danger from them?”

Bruce smiles at him. “Clark, I put my life on the line every night. It’s not just them I’m in danger of.”

“But when I found you, it was because of Atlanteans.” Bruce nods and Clark continues. “What if I don’t find you next time?”

Bruce crosses his arms, raising one eyebrow. “You plan on making this a habit?”

This time it’s Clark’s turn to blush. “No, no, of course not.” He chuckles awkwardly and Bruce smirks at him. “I just meant…” Clark trails off, sighing. “You were very badly injured when I found you and if I hadn’t of found you… you would have died, Bruce.” Clark licks his lips. “I don’t want you to die.”

Bruce’s smile eases slightly, getting less teasing and getting fonder. “Don’t get soft on me now, land dweller.”

Clark huffs a laugh, his own affectionate smile directed at Bruce. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Clark takes a deep breath and stands. “It’s getting late. We should try resting.” Clark examines Bruce’s tail with his eyes and a heavy feeling forms in his chest at seeing the wounds almost fully healed, knowing he’ll have to say goodbye to the man soon. “It looks like you’ll be able to go back to the ocean tomorrow.”

Bruce glances down at the black tail that just won’t stop shimmering yellow. “I was actually kind of hoping you would bring me back tonight.”

Clark’s heart jumps. “Oh!” Clark had hoped to have a bit more time with the merman. He is growing fond of Bruce, despite all the insults that were hurled his way and Clark feels as if he and Bruce could get along well if given the chance. “You should eat first, shouldn’t you? I’m sure I have something here that will be deemed edible by you.”

Bruce huffs playfully. “I’m not counting on it.” They both chuckle and when they’ve finally settled down, they smile at each other tenderly. Bruce sighs, looking off to the side. “I can eat something once I’m back in the ocean.”

Clark’s heart falls but he doesn’t show it. “Okay.” Clark bends over and picks Bruce up out of the bathtub, Bruce slinging arms around Clark’s neck to hold on to.

The flight back to the ocean is made in silence and Clark tries to go as slow as possible without it being obvious. He’s sure Bruce notices anyway but the merman doesn’t complain. Clark brings Bruce back to the spot he found the man in. They both look down at the water, the moon shining off it in ripples. Clark doesn’t let go right away, wishing he had just a bit more time with the merman. But eventually he knows he has to set Bruce back into the sea and say his farewells.

“Hey,” Bruce gets Clark’s attention. “Wait here.” Then Bruce dives out of his arms, the man being more slippery than Clark had anticipated. He doesn’t know how long he waits but it feels like several minutes as he watches the moon crawl across the night sky. After what seems like forever, Bruce’s head finally breaks the surface. The merman holds up a hand, clasping something. “Take this.” Clark reaches down and retrieves it, examining it closer. It’s a type of shell with brown, tan, and gold stripes. “It’s a fulgurator olive shell,” Bruce informs him.

“It’s… beautiful,” Clark comments. “You’re giving it to me?”

Bruce nods once. “You know, you could put it on a shelf or, if you get someone skilled enough, you could,” the merman shrugs nonchalantly, “possibly make it into a necklace.”

Clark stares at Bruce in wonder. “Thank you.”

Bruce’s cheeks are red again and he gestures for Clark to come closer. Clark does and Bruce jumps halfway out of the water, kissing Clark on the cheek. “Thank you for saving me.”

Clark reaches up to his own flushed cheek, placing a hand where Bruce had kissed him. “Y-You’re welcome.”

Bruce nods once again and then starts swimming backwards. “I’ll see you around.” Clark says nothing, stunned. Bruce clears his throat. “Don’t forget about the dwindling fish population, land dweller.” Bruce then backflips back under the water, tail showing off the bright iridescent yellow as the merman disappears from sight.

Clark smiles after Bruce, his chest feeling warm and the shell held carefully next to his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and again, happy holidays everyone!!


End file.
